Page 43 of Play the Last Card
Flynn’s laughter sobers up. He regards me for a second and then his eyes narrow.
“When you told her who you are … did you tell her who you actually are or are you trying to get off on some technicality?” His questions suddenly become serious.
I swallow, the towel pulling taunt in my hands. “I told her … my last name.”
He groans, standing up so he’s eye to eye with me and before I know it, he slaps the back of my head. I flinch but release the towel, slapping it against his thigh.
“Bro. Ow.” He rubs his leg and backs up. “Youhaveto tell her!”
“I know. I know.”
“You know that before you can go any further with her, you need to come clean. Because if you sleep with her, and then tell her, she’ll be like mad, mad.”
I drop my forehead against the locker, eyes closing and as if on cue, Ivy’s beautiful and perfect face fills it.
“I know.”
Fuck.
***
I can hear her shuffling down the hallway, probably annoyed that someone's gone ahead and interrupted her night. Not that I care. We flew in this morning and I don’t have training tomorrow. I want to see her.
So damn it, I’m going to see her.
I’ve started to think of my life before coming to Boston asbefore Ivy. Not before the Broncos, not before moving, but alwaysbefore Ivy.
A Monday night off before her was spent firmly sitting on the couch and watching the Monday night football game like the rest of the football crazed nation. It’s much too early to admit that life is starting to revolve around her but I can’t seem to stop it happening.
The door in front of me cracks open and her beautiful, confused face appears in the gap.
“Scott? What—” She pulls the door open further and I drink her in.
She wears sweatpants that are at least two sizes too big, rolled at the waist and dragging along the floor. Her tank top crops at her stomach and I’m caught off guard by the powerful desire to wrap my fingers around her waist just to feel how soft her skin would be under my rough hands. It’s softer than butter. Her voice pulls me out of my thoughts.
“What are you doing here?”
“I got back this morning, went to the gym, and then was sitting at home.” I lean my forearm against the doorframe, towering over her and into her space. She's taken over every inch of my mind lately, only fair that I try to take over hers. “But I didn’t want to sit at home. I wanted to see you.”
“Oh.” Her lips form the perfect O shape, the word coming out soft and breathy. God, this girl.
“Yeah, oh.”
“You wanted to see me?” she clarifies.
“Sure did.”
I watch her throat as she swallows, as her tongue wets her lips. I follow the movement as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. I lift my free hand, leaning further into her space and tug it free.
“Hi.” I breathe, my lips inches from hers.
This gets me a small smile. “Hi.”
She leans forward, just the tiniest bit but it’s all I need. My lips drop onto hers and I take her next breath as my own, kissing her until her hands are curled into my hair and my hands curl tightly around her waist.
When she pulls back from me, she is breathless and her eyes close for a moment. She looks up at me asking, “Come inside?”
“I was hoping you’d ask that.” I let my hands drop to my side, grazing against her stomach a little as I make my way inside. When my fingers skim across hers, I tangle them together and pull her with me down the corridor.